As detailed in Sunday's column, the seven scientists on the nine-member commission rebelled at a set of policies and procedures presented by Bradley that would have given him formidable powers as chairman, including naming members and chairs of three standing committees and of ad-hoc committees that will direct the investigations of alleged failures at police labs and other agencies.

Given that Bradley had incited a national firestorm by unilaterally cancelling a commission meeting scheduled to hear an expert's report on a case that could prove highly embarrassing to Perry, the scientists were not in a mood to give him total control over assignments regarding future cases.

But they did, after some resistance, give in on another issue. The law setting up the commission charged it with investigating allegations of “professional misconduct” and “professional negligence” at accredited crime labs and other facilities.

Bradley argued for definitions of these terms out of fairness to lab personnel.

At an earlier meeting, after consulting with a lawyer from the attorney general's office, the commission had decided not to define the terms.

Definitions adopted

The scientists on the commission are focused more on identifying bad science in the interest of reducing it rather than nailing individual practitioners. They decided that since they had no power to punish a misbehaving lab staffer, they need not define misconduct or negligence.

They also argued that since nowhere in the law or in the forensic scientific literature are the terms defined, they shouldn't be the first to do so.

Bradley is pleased that he persuaded the commission to adopt definitions, calling them “perhaps the most significant” part of the new policies.

“The Commission, by taking this historic step, sets a standard of excellence that will be demanded of the Texas forensic science community,” Bradley wrote to me in an e-mail Monday. “No more will criminal defendants, judges, defense attorneys, prosecutors or victims have to guess at how to identify and correct the wrongful application of forensic science.”

But the definitions appear to set a pretty weak standard. Both begin with the words: “after considering all of the circumstances from the actor's standpoint,” offering a subjective loophole that has nothing to do with whether the person did good science or bad science by the standards at the time.

But having given in on this question, the scientists on the commission vetoed another one of Bradley's goals. He pressed them repeatedly and hard to hire a staff lawyer for the commission.

While publicly raising the concern that there wasn't enough work to justify it, several scientists privately voice other worries.

One concerned expense. More lawyering could mean less science.

The commission's annual budget is $250,000. More than $50,000 already goes for administrative expenses. Most serious investigations will involve having experts review the allegations of misconduct or negligence.

Nationally renowned arson expert Dr. Craig Beyler, whose intensely critical report on the arson investigation in the case of executed murderer Cameron Todd Willingham was to be presented at the meeting canceled by Bradley, was paid a fee of $36,600.

Working for chairman?

The scientists on the commission worried that with no expectations of an increased budget from the Legislature, salary and benefits for a full-time staff lawyer could mean fewer meaningful investigations.

Another concern was that the lawyer would, as a practical matter, work for the chairman, bolstering his positions regarding commission actions.

Clearly the scientists trust Barbara Dean, the assistant attorney general who has provided legal advice to the commission since its inception (and whom I misidentified Sunday as an assistant district attorney) more than they trust Bradley.